


HCs. The fire inside (it burns too bright)

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Established Relationship, Forehead Kisses, Gaslighting, Hand Jobs, Headcanon, Implied Consent, Lap-sitting, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Over Clothes Stimulation, Teasing, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 18:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: It doesn’t take much besides Eddie’s nonchalance, him acting like he’s not doing anything sexual at all, to get Richie hardening up in his pants.OR Eddie gaslights Richie.





	HCs. The fire inside (it burns too bright)

  * Eddie’s got Richie on his lap, arms around Richie’s waist, hand between Richie’s legs.
  * At first he’s just thumbing at Richie’s dick over his jeans, while they watch a show on t.v.
  * It doesn’t take much besides Eddie’s nonchalance, him acting like he’s not doing anything sexual at all, to get Richie hardening up in his pants.
  * Richie huffs out a little breath as he squirms in Eddie’s lap, trying to flex his hips in a way that allows his erection to sit more comfortably.
  * Knows, technically, the teasing’s not supposed to mean anything.
  * But he still tries to catch more of Eddie’s hand because it’s too little friction too consistently.
  * “You uncomfortable, babe?” Eddie hums over his shoulder, rubbing the tip of his nose along Richie’s jaw, soft and sweet. “Pants too tight on your stomach? We should get you looser pants, huh? Here... let me undo those for you so you can breathe better."
  * Richie swallows, and lays his head back on Eddie’s shoulder, spreading his legs wider over the sides of Eddie’s thighs so he can recline back easier. Hoping it’ll make it better. More.
  * Eddie pops the button open, undoes the zip on his jeans, and spreads it out.
  * Then goes back to watching the t.v. with his arms curled around Richie, cuddling him close.
  * Only this time the pad of his thumb is stroking right over the vein beneath the head of Richie’s cock, over his briefs, and Richie’s chest goes tight, holding his breath to try and keep from making any noise, even as Eddie gets precum beading out and onto the cotton of his underpants.
  * And when Eddie feels the wet there, begins _petting_ at Richie’s cock, over his clothes, downward strokes, as if he were rubbing Richie’s back, or petting his hair.
  * Richie keens, helpless, arching his back up, stomach forward, even as he refuses to lift his hips, worried about what that’d mean for him.
  * But Eddie doesn’t care that he’s trying to be good, trying not to increase the pressure.
  * Eddie’s mouth presses into his neck. Not so much a kiss, as a reminder that he’s there, not just a hand for Richie to use. Then kisses Richie’s ear in reward for showing restraint thus far.
  * But then the butt of Eddie’s palm catches on Richie’s cockhead, on the next downward stroke, the actual skin of it, as he slightly drags the waist band of Richie’s briefs down, and the skin to skin contact is too much. Unexpected, and Richie huffs out a high-pitched little, “ _Eddie_.”
  * Eddie’s hand pauses. Sort of. Stills with his thumb over Richie’s slit, pressing into the slick there as Richie’s hips jar up.
  * “Why’re you whining, baby? What’s wrong? You don’t feel good?” Eddie asks him, all syrupy-sweet as he spreads the precum over Richie’s head, slow almost ticklishly soft.
  * “No, I - It’s - I’m good.”
  * Eddie frowns placing his temple to the side of Richie’s head as if out of empathy-induced sorrow, “But you keep sounding like I’m hurting you. Should I stop holding you around the waist, baby? Do you want me to hold you around the chest instead? Maybe it’ll hurt less.”
  * And Eddie, unnecessarily, shows Richie what he means, by sliding his hand up Richie’s shirt, and begins gently rubbing the precum that had collected on the pad of his thumb, into Richie’s nipple.
  * It sends a little jolt to Richie’s cock, but he’d so much rather Eddie keep touching him lower, instead. Richie’s nipples are still sensitive from their play yesterday.
  * Richie shakes his head, feeling Eddie’s head brush against his as he timidly lifts an arm to cover Eddie’s before just lightly suggesting, with a press of his thumb into the top of Eddie’s wrist, he move his hand back down. Please.
  * Eddie pinches his nipple, then graciously complies, all the while pretending he hasn’t just deepened the slight bruising on Richie’s peck, ignoring the little cry of actual pain Richie lets out.
  * “Okay...” Eddie says, drawing it out, before pressing a kiss to Richie’s shoulder, “But if you keep making those noises, I’m gonna think I’m hurting you. And I’m just trying to hold you baby, so if I’m hurting you, I’m gonna stop.”
  * Richie nods his head. Message received that he has to be quiet, but then Eddie’s not just petting down the length of his cock as smoothly and intentionally as he can, but then his hand is slipping down into the ‘v’ of Richie’s jeans, too, and stroking at Richie’s perineum through his briefs until Richie’s cock is jerking against the butt of Eddie’s palm and his strained little puffs of breath turn into an all out moan when Eddie’s middle finger reaches to stroke over his hole.
  * “ _Richie_ ,” Eddie says, strained, and sad-sounding, as he drags his whole hand back up Richie’s erection, until his finger tips are squeezing more precum from the head, moving passed the way Richie’s stomach clenches back a gut-punched moan at the touch, and then gets his hands on the sides of Richie’s waist and lifts him up and off to the side. “I told you; I don’t wanna hurt you. I’m gonna go make you dinner, sweetheart. Just stay there and watch the show.”
  * So Eddie’s in the kitchen, and starts pulling things from the cupboards, and Richie knows he shouldn’t, but he’s so fucking turned on, and Eddie’s back is to him, and he thinks if he just jerks off really fast he can cum before Eddie notices.
  * But it feels so damn good, when Richie gets his waistband beneath his balls, and a whole fist around his cock that a little moan breaks out from between his lips.
  * And anyway, it wasn’t like Eddie was _actually_ going to let his poor, sick boyfriend sit on the couch, neglected. Eddie was going to keep an eye on him in case he needed anything.
  * “Baby!” Eddie cries, when he turns and sees Richie’s hand on himself. “No! It hurts too much when you get touched there, Richie. Am I gonna have to tie you up so you don’t hurt yourself?” Like a little boy with the chicken pox, who has to have oven mitts duct-taped to their arms.
  * But it’s not really a question. Because Eddie, of course, was already making his way back to the couch, and grabbing Richie’s wrist, pulling his hand away, and then having Richie wrap his arms around Eddie’s neck, while he picks him up around the curve of his ass, pressing Richie’s cock and balls into his abdomen, swift, sweet pressure - that’s also fleeting - as he says, “C’mon sweetheart. I’ll take you to bed and get you all fixed up so you can feel better...”
  * Getting Richie ready for bed entails stripping him to his briefs, since they normally only sleep in their underwear together, but then Eddie ho-hums over the stain there, from Richie’s precum, and strips those off too, once he has Richie’s wrists secured to the bed.
  * “Eddie, baby, please. Please keep touching me I - _please_.”
  * Eddie frowns, sad again, and presses a kiss to Richie’s forehead as he brushes his hair back. “Richie... Why are you punishing yourself? You know I love you. Hurting you is the _last_ thing I wanna do.”
  * “Please. _Please_!”
  * It’s heart-wrenching, really. Richie’s begging. So Eddie sighs.
  * “Okay. Here’s what I’ll do, since you’re so adamant: I’ll try touching you in different ways, to see if any of them feel good. I’ll know if it’s nice if you’re not moving around too much, trying to get away from it, if you can breathe right, and if you don’t _sound_ like I’m hurting you, okay?”
  * And Richie doesn’t have any other choice, so he holds back the sob that’s in his chest, and Eddie sighs out, long-suffering, before finally going to withdraw everything he needs from the closet.
  * There’s a cock-sleeve stroker, a low-energy vibrator, a Hitachi, a regular dildo for frotting Richie against, and of course, Eddie’s mouth.
  * But nothing passes the test. Not the first time. Or the second time. Or even the third.
  * No matter if Eddie goes slow, or fast, light touches, or rough and pressured.
  * Richie always starts crying out, or wriggling his hips, kicking his legs, chest heaving in painful little gasps, or holding back the air in his lungs until it burns.
  * Making himself sick with it all...
  * No matter what Eddie tries.
  * And Eddie just - just can’t understand how Richie can be in so much pain over every single touch. How sick his boy must be...
  * Unless that’s normal?
  * Eddie swallows, and decides that he wants to get to the bottom of things, or at least rule out some potential problems.
  * Picking up the little bullet vibrator he’d ran up and down the length of Richie’s erection, down his perineum and teased at his hole, Eddie flicks the button, testing its battery.
  * The sound of it working makes Richie take in a little breath, and then he’s breaking open with, “Eddie. Eddie, please can I cum? Please let me cum!”
  * “ _Baby_.” Eddie sounds disappointed, and a little heart-broken at the request. “...What are you talking about? I’m not trying to make you _cum_ , sweetheart. I’m trying to make you feel good. You always cry when you cum.”
  * Then before Richie can start begging again, Eddie says, “Here. I’m gonna see if maybe these toys are bad.”
  * He takes his own clothes off, and sits back against the foot board, cock prominent and hard against his stomach, as he brings the small bullet to his cock, flips it on and starts stroking himself.
  * In perfect view, because Richie’s head is propped up with pillows, of course. Fluffed and stacked nicely for Richie’s comfort while he’s in so much pain.
  * More controlled, Eddie lets his head roll back, but no, it doesn’t hurt. In fact, it feels fucking amazing. The vibrations squeezed up and down his cock, as his balls tighten up, pleasant and full.
  * “Jeez baby,” Eddie breathes, dropping his head forward to look, molten, into Richie’s eyes. “I wish this made you feel as good as it makes _me_ feel.”
  * He teases his own head a little, before thumbing over the slit, biting into his lower lip, eyes dropped closed, and chest rising and falling steadily.
  * Richie whines again, pained at how pretty Eddie looks that way, knowing how gorgeous he must feel, how he’s pulling himself closer and closer to an orgasm, and jesusjesusjesus. “ _Eddie, please._ Please let me cum, baby.”
  * Eddie stops the vibrator, gives Richie a calculating look as he lets his own cock rest against his abdomen, then climbs up onto his knees and moves them forward until he can run his hands along Richie’s twitching thighs.
  * Biting into his lip again, Eddie’s brows furrow, concentrated, as he puts the tip of his middle finger to Richie’s hole, and then strokes down Richie’s perineum with the pad of his thumb, as he teases at pushing his middle finger inside.
  * Richie twitches, but doesn’t moan.
  * So Eddie swallows, and leans forward, in one last attempt.
  * Takes Richie into his mouth, so utterly red, wet, and straining now, and sinks down to the base, slow, slow, slow, and oh so careful for his baby.
  * Till he feels the tip hit his throat.
  * And he swallows.
  * Richie keens, broken open, and then it turns into a full-on sob, actual tears falling from his eyes.
  * Eddie pulls off immediately, letting Richie’s cock snap back to the bed of his stomach, and Richie’s gasping out little, ‘No no no no no’s as he pulls against his restraints.
  * “Baby,” Eddie breathes out, soft, face pinched with regret, eyes and mouth turned down. “See, sweetheart? I just... I just don’t think I should touch you anymore. You haven’t even cum and you’re already crying...”
  * “Please. Eds, please, please. I need to cum. I -”
  * “I know,” Eddie says, interrupting. Suddenly much more chipper than before, dragging the back of his index finger’s nail up Richie’s cock.
  * It falls to his navel, after glancing over Richie’s slit, into the pool of precum there.
  * He presses down into Richie’s belly button, making Richie’s cock twitch with a heated stab of pleasure, as he leans over Richie, and takes his own cock in hand, pumping himself hard and fast, purposeful.
  * Saying, “I’m gonna cum on your stomach for you, baby. And that way, we can _pretend_ you came. Only it won’t hurt you! How’s that sound, baby boy?”
  * (And of course, Richie could have safe-worded out at any point, but he was getting the best edge _of his fucking life_ , so why would he do _that_?)



**Author's Note:**

> Title from Michael Bublé's "It's A Beautiful Day"
> 
> I take [prompts](https://jacksbrak.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
